It's okay
by imgonnafreakyscream
Summary: A little Sokeefe oneshot. This used to be a pregnant!Sophie fic, but I realized that I couldn't finish, and didn't want people to keep reading and expecting me to finish, so I edited it into a long oneshot! Rated M for a reason!


**Hello! This oneshot contains many M-rated things, such as swearing and graphic depictions of sex. Please don't read if you are mot okay with that! Full dashes across the page mean time passing, and little dashes mean change in perspective (always Sophie or Keefe). Also, this used to be a pregnant!Sophie fic, but I found that I couldn't finish, so I edited it into a long oneshot instead. Love you all :)**

Sophie collapsed onto her bed, sobbing. She knew she shouldn't be like this; she knew that it was only one assignment. And she knew that hadn't _actually_ failed it. But she got a C, and that was failing enough for her.

No one knew that she was crying, she had made sure of that. She had kept her emotions well-hidden with small smiles and as much time as she could bear with her parents and friends. But once she had reached her room and closed the door, she had burst into the hiccuping sobs that racked her body.

She also knew that it wasn't just failing the assignment that made her like this. It was everything piled up, all the stress and emotions that she hadn't let out in weeks. _Months_, even. They had been chasing the Neverseen and had gotten nowhere. The frustration was crushing. And she felt so lonely.

So she sat there, bawling and hugging her knees and dissolving into her misery. So dissolved, in fact, that she didn't notice the doorbell ring, nor the cheerful voices downstairs, greeting someone in, nor when footsteps came up the stairs. No, she only noticed when it was too late to do anything, to hide her tears— when someone opened the door.

"Foster?" A soft voice called.

She sniffled and scrubbed at her cheeks and tried furiously to make it look like she hadn't been crying— but to no avail.

"Hey, Foster." Someone sat down next to her and rubbed her back in soft, caring circles. "It's okay."

She swiped at her blurry eyes and found Keefe's ice blue ones staring down at her, full of worry.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, starting to ramble. "I shouldn't be crying and it was just an assignment and I'm sorry that I'm not strong and—"

"Shh, Foster," he silenced her by wrapping his arms around her and holding her. "You can cry, Foster. It's not a crime."

She leaned into him, letting herself relax in his arms and cry.

—

Sophie's sobs shook them both as she sobbed into him, burying her face in his chest. He just rubbed her back in comforting circles and held her. It took all of his willpower to not kiss the top of her head, nor to play with her soft hair as she cried and cried and cried.

When the sobs had died down to whimpers and sighs, Keefe said, "You're the strongest person I know, Foster. Don't ever doubt that."

She looked up at him and half laughed, half huffed. "I'm not strong."

He finally gave in and gently twirled a piece of her hair around one of his fingers. It was even softer than he had imagined. "You're the bravest, and strongest, and most courageous person I know, Sophie. And even the bravest and strongest and most courageous people cry."

He felt hot embarrassment radiate off of her and reached for one of her gloved hands. He intertwined his fingers with hers and smiled. Why she always felt embarrassed when she was praised was very confusing. But then again, her emotions usually were. Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind.

"You know what I do when I'm down?" he asked her gently. She shook her head, nuzzling closer to him.

"I draw. We have to find your 'thing'," he said. She looked at him in confusion.

"Something to make you happy," he explained. "Something to get you out of your funky mood."

She glared at him, and they had a silent conversation. _Not funny. _

_I wasn't trying to be. You need to get out of your mood. _

_No, I don't. I'm fine. _

_No. Think of something. Anything that makes you happy. _

She sighed, then mumbled, "Music."

He cocked his head to the side.

"Human music sometimes makes me happier."

"Should I just pick a random song?" He asked.

She nodded, reaching over to her bed table and grabbing her iPod.

She handed it over and he scrolled through some of the songs. One of them had a relatively happy-sounding title, but he couldn't translate one of the words. He just decided to pick it and he would find out what it meant later.

The song started, and it was an upbeat rhythm. He stood up and held out a hand. "Care to dance, Foster?"

She blushed and hid behind her soft hair.

He grabbed one of her hands and pulled her up. "Come on."

He took her other hand and started dancing, watching her the entire time. As the song progressed, her dancing went from Keefe leading her movements to her having a little more joy in her steps. She shrieked as he twirled her. "Keefe!" She laughed.

He laughed, too. They kept dancing, staring into each other's eyes. Keefe couldn't tell if his breathlessness was his own or Sophie's. The golden flecks in her eyes sparkled as they danced, and her smile grew until she was beaming. Keefe twirled her again, making her laugh, a beautiful sound that made everything seem okay.

As the song ended, they collapsed on the bed, panting, but still holding hands.

"Better?" Keefe turned his head to her.

She nodded breathlessly, turning her head to look at him.

He leaned toward her as she leaned toward him. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and Keefe was so nervous he couldn't distinguish his own nervousness from Sophie's. His eyes closed as well, and their lips met. Hers were soft and Keefe never wanted to let go. But he was scared that she would hate him. He pulled back, searching for anything that would tell him that she hated him. But her golden-brown eyes were filled with love and hope. A small smile bloomed on her lips.

He kissed her again, this time running a hand through that silky blond hair of hers. She brushed her fingers through his, and for once, he didn't mind. They broke apart only for air.

Sophie made a face to herself.

"What?" Keefe asked. "Did my breath stink?"

She laughed. "No, no. I'm just trying to figure out how you're like this."

"Like what?"

"I don't know... both of your parents are— please excuse me— complete assholes, yet you... you're kind and caring and loving and a bunch of other things. And you're not one bit who your parents are."

He smiled, blushing.

"I'm also thinking about how lucky I am to have you. You're... you're amazing. And I know some people might think that it's too soon to say this, but... I know it's true, and I feel like it's been long enough, so... I love you. I love you and I'm proud of you. That you could go through that. That you could withstand that mistreatment and not be mean and hateful and horrible."

Keefe looked shocked, but Sophie scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest. She listened to his heartbeat and let it lull her into the best sleep she'd had in a long time.

* * *

When she awoke, Sophie felt the steady rise and fall of Keefe's chest. She peeled her face off of his shirt and looked up at him. He was cute when he was sleeping. After a few minutes, his eyes slowly opened, blinking a few times before settling on her.

"What?" She asked softly, not because they were trying to be quiet, but just because it seemed right.

"You're a mess, Foster," he smiled.

She gaped at him, then slapped his arm.

"A beautiful one," he admitted.

She snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not joking," he protested.

"Suuuuure you're not."

"I'm not," he said, and kissed her. "I swear on..." he looked around. "Ella."

She laughed. "You can't swear on my stuff, genius."

"The only thing I have here is my clothes!" he protested.

"Then swear on that."

He widened his eyes. "Wow, Foster. Never thought you'd be the one telling me to take my clothes off," he joked.

Her face turned red, but she rolled her eyes and shoved him. His head hit the wall with a _thunk_.

Sophie gasped. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry!"

He laughed. "I'm fine, Foster. It was just a little bump."

She winced. "Okay. I'm still sorry."

"You should be," he said, his eyes teasing. "I have to get payback by... TICKLES!" He launched himself at her and tickled her armpits and stomach, some of her weak spots.

"Ah! K— Keefe! Stop!" She screeched, laughing so hard her sides hurt.

"Nope!" he grinned, and tickled her again.

"Stop! Stop, I have to pee!" She yelled.

He immediately shrunk back.

"Ha ha!" She shrieked, and started tickling him. "Classic!"

His eyes widened with playful betrayal, then squeezed shut as he laughed. She didn't stop tickling him, not for a while. She had to sit on his legs because he kept accidentally kicking her. She didn't stop until they were both exhausted and panting, lying on the bed. She moved her head to the side to look at him. He did the same, and they were soon gazing into each other's eyes with looks that would probably send most of their friends gagging.

When Keefe pointed that out, Sophie just laughed. "Stop, you're making my sides hurt again," she complained.

"Sorry not sorry," he winked.

"And here I was, thinking that this would make the teasing less," she tutted.

"Foster, Foster! You should know better than that! The teasing is only going to get better!"

She groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I love you, Foster."

"Love you, too."

Suddenly, Keefe's Imparter rang from across the room. He rolled his eyes. "Probably the Fitzer wondering where I am."

He answered without looking at the screen. "Hey—"

"Where are you!?" His father's annoyed, nasally voice cut through the air. "I told you to be back here by ten!"

Keefe's eyes widened as he looked at his watch. "Oh, sh— crap."

"Oh crap is right. Get home. _Now_," he growled.

Keefe nodded and hung up. He looked at Sophie, and she saw the broken little boy that she'd seen in some of his memories.

"Sorry, Foster. I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

She nodded and lifted herself onto her tippy-toes to kiss him. She still wasn't tall enough. He cracked a small, sad smile, leaned down, and kissed her.

"Bye, Foster."

"Bye."

* * *

When Sophie got down to the kitchen, Grady and Edaline weren't there. As she looked at the oven clock, it read 11:30. It was _late_.

She walked up to their room, where she found them sitting on the bed, working at their laptop-like devices.

She knocked quietly.

Edaline looked up and smiled at her. "Hey! I didn't want to wake you up earlier. You looked pretty comfy," she said, winking. Grady smiled at her. "Why don't we go get you some dinner," Edaline suggested.

Sophie nodded, her stomach growling.

As Edaline grabbed some blue mush from the fridge, she whispered, "Grady doesn't know."

"Doesn't know about what?" Sophie asked, knowing very well what she was talking about.

"I didn't tell him in case he flipped out and woke you both up. You guys were very cute, by the way. All cuddled up, like—"

Sophie grabbed the bowl from her adoptive mother as she blushed. "Okay! Thanks for dinner! I'm going to eat in my room tonight!"

Edaline chuckled. "If you insist."

Sophie just grabbed a spoon and bolted up to her room.

* * *

The next few weeks were surprisingly normal. Sophie went to Foxfire, came home, and did her chores. The entire friend group would gather at either Everglen or Havenfield and play Base Quest and sneak sweets behind their parents' backs. She and Keefe had silently decided that they weren't going to tell their friends. But Keefe was even more insistent to have Sophie on his team for Base Quest.

Miraculously, when Fitz smiled at Sophie, her heart didn't flutter anymore. It only fluttered when Keefe would kiss her or hold her or tease her. And she was sure he could feel it every time.

One day, however, she invited Keefe to Havenfield without the others.

"Hey Foster! Where is everyone?" He asked as he opened the door to her room.

"I didn't invite them," she explained.

He smiled. "Finally I get you to myself!"

"Ha, ha," she rolled her eyes. "You want to sleep over? It's a weekend."

"A sleepover with you... kinda sounds like you're asking me out, Foster," he joked.

"What if I was?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Then I would say yes."

She smiled faintly. "You want to play a board game?"

"Sure. You pick."

"Clue?" She grinned.

He groaned. "But you always win Clue!"

She smirked. "That's why it's my favorite."

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Fine."

They played a few rounds and Keefe texted his dad to tell him that he would be sleeping over. Sophie decided that it would be better to tell Edaline first and let her handle Grady.

Keefe pumped his fists into the air as the dice rolled a twelve. He moved his piece to the dining room and smiled. "I accuse Green in the Dining Room with the Dagger," he declared. He removed the cards from the mini-envelope in which they were stored. He laid them out before himself. Green, dagger, dining room.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, getting up and doing a wiggly dance. "I finally beat you! I finally beat you!" He said in a playful, sing-song voice.

"No! The Clue master has been beaten!? Not possible. Lemme see."

She looked at the cards. "No!"

"I beat you, Foster! I did it! I did it! I did it!" He continued to wiggle-dance around the room.

She laughed and pretended to look hurt. "I— I just can't believe it! Keefe Sencen beat _me_!? At _Clue_!?"

"I did," he repeated, grinning. "I did, I did, I did."

"Enough 'I did'ing," Sandor grumbled from outside the door.

Keefe laughed. "You know what, Gigantor, I have to thank you. For keeping my girl safe."

They could practically hear Sandor's eye roll. "She's not your girl."

"That is an arguable point," Keefe said.

"I'll leave you two to argue. I'm going to go tell my mom that you're sleeping over," Sophie declared.

"No, he's not," Sandor moved into the room and glared at Keefe.

"Yes, he is. And you will stay out of it." Sophie glared right back at him, unmoving.

Sandor let out one of his squeaky sighs. "Fine. As long as your parents are okay with it."

Sophie nodded and headed downstairs to find Edaline.

"Edaline!" She shouted. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!"

Sophie strolled to the kitchen and breathed in the smell. "It smells like... beef stew," she commented.

Edaline wrinkles her nose. "Beef?"

Sophie decided to change the topic. "Can Keefe sleep over?"

Edaline raised an eyebrow and Sophie felt her face heat up.

"Just don't let Grady see him. If he does, I'm sure he's going to interrogate him about... never mind. I just don't feel like telling him today."

Sophie nodded. "I understand. Can we eat in my room to study?"

Edaline nodded again and spooned some broth into a bowl, then another one. "Just try not to spill it."

Sophie grinned at her. "I love you."

"Love you, too." She handed her the bowls and two spoons. "Go have fun studying."

Sophie laughed. "I don't think those words belong in the same sentence."

Edaline smiled. "Me neither."

* * *

By the time they were both done with their soup— which had tasted exactly like beef stew, as well —it was time to study. Well... more like time for Sophie to study and Keefe to tell her that he was bored.

"Fosterrr. Are you done yet?"

"The more you ask me, the longer it takes."

"I want to do something!"

"Then go find something to do!"

"Can I draw you?"

"No!"

"Why noooot?"

"Because I said so. Shush."

"Don't you shush me!"

"I'll shush you all I want. Shush."

"Well, then. I'll just have to shush you."

"I'm the one trying to study."

A sigh. "True." Keefe leaned over her book and kissed her.

"Keefe! I'm trying to study!" Sophie protested when he pulled away.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it, Foster," he teased. "Because you can't lie—"

"To an Empath, I know."

"Can I draw you now?"

Sophie laughed. "Fine. I have some pencils in my desk."

Keefe grinned and sauntered over to her desk. He opened all of the drawers, one by one and finally reached the pencil drawer.

"Woah, nice pencils!"

"Um... thanks. I think," she said, looking up at him. "I've never really been complimented on my pencils before."

He laughed. "Well, then no one in your life truly understands art."

It was her turn to giggle. Keefe grabbed a sketchpad from his backpack and tucked his legs into a crisscross under him to draw. She could hear his pencil scratching on the paper, but she kept studying and reading. Occasionally, she would drift off into a daydream about a special person with beautiful icy-blue eyes, but then she would shake herself back into focus.

"You have a very nice face shape," Keefe suddenly commented.

She laughed. "Sure."

"No, I'm serious! You do have a really nice face shape!"

"I've also never had anyone compliment my face shape," she chuckled, "but thanks."

He rolled his eyes, but kept working. It was dark outside by the time they finished.

"Done!" They shouted at the same time. They looked at each other in shock.

"Great timing!" Keefe said.

"It was," Sophie agreed, trying to look over his shoulder at the drawing.

He laughed. "Too short, Foster."

She growled in frustration, but he just laughed and turned around to show her the picture. She gasped. It was perfect. Every detail— down to the stupid little piece of hair that wouldn't stay out of her face— was in the correct place. "This is amazing, Keefe!"

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's nothing, really. Your feet are lopsided, and the shading is a bit wonky, and—"

She kissed him, a quick, loving one, but it was only quick because she couldn't stay on her tip-toes for long. "Shut up," she whispered. "It's perfect."

He embraced her. "I love you, Foster."

"Love you, too."

They stood there for a while, just enjoying being held in each other's arms before Keefe broke the silence.

"So is it just some weird alicorn gene thing that you're short?"

She shoved him, making him reflexively grab her wrists as he stumbled backward. The both came crashing to the floor, laughing and giggling squirming.

"Get off of me!"

"No way! You tease me way too much!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything!"

"If I give you a kiss will you get off?"

Sophie hesitated. "That depends."

Keefe cocked an eyebrow. "On what?"

"On whether it's a good one or not," she replied saucily, then leaned down to kiss him. He kissed her back with passion, with something that hadn't been there before. She settled her knees on the ground beside his hips, her legs now straddling him. Her hands moved up to his hair, which was surprisingly soft, considering all the hair products he probably used. It was like petting a baby bunny.

"Should I let you two sleep in the same room?" A voice said from behind them.

Sophie scrambled off of Keefe, her face entirely red. "Edaline?" She squeaked.

She gave them both a look that clearly said, _Don't do anything stupid_, and left, closing the door behind her.

"That's... awkward," Keefe said, his face flaming and his voice breathless.

"Understatement of the year," Sophie muttered.

Keefe nodded, wincing. "Oops."

* * *

"Hey, do you have a sleeping bag?" Keefe called from the bedroom.

"Uh, no? Why?" Came the response from the bathroom.

"Well I can't very well sleep outside, can I?"

"What are you talking about? You'll sleep on the bed, Keefe."

"What if Grady comes in?"

"So what if Grady comes in? We're not going to be naked. I mean— if you're not comfortable with it, you don't have to, I'm sure we can find something, but you can sleep on the bed with me if you want."

"Thanks," he said, "I guess I'll go get into bed." He grabbed Mrs. Stinkbottom— they had grabbed his belongings from Candleshade earlier— and hopped onto her bed. He grabbed his sketchpad from earlier and a pencil and started doodling.

Sophie padded out of the bathroom with a small huff and walked over to the bed, grabbing a book. She plopped herself down on the mattress.

"What are you wearing?" Keefe asked.

"Um, a t-shirt and shorts?"

"Shorts?"

"Yeah? Do you have a problem with that?" She replied sassily, going back to reading her book. There was only one thing... he did have a tiny problem with the shorts. They were so _short_. Her entire outfit was very scandalous, and he found himself trying very hard not to think about it. He didn't want her to think he thought about her like _that_. She peeked over his shoulder.

"Hey, that's pretty good!" She commented.

"Thanks. It's just a doodle, though."

"Well your doodles make my drawings look like scribbles. Also, I'm going to sleep, if you would like to join me."

He smiled down at her and clapped his hands to turn off the lights. They snuggled under the covers and into each other, savoring the warmth as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Keefe woke up to someone kicking his shin. Hard. He blinked his blurry eyes. "What—"

Sophie was a thrashing, sweaty, mumbling mess. Her fear shot through him like an arrow, and he tried to comfort her, tried to wake her. She pushed his hands away.

"Foster, it's okay. It's just a nightmare. You're—"

Her eyes snapped open and she stumbled out of bed, missing the bathroom doorframe by millimeters. He almost vomited at the fear radiating from her, but she _actually_ retched into the toilet, sobbing.

Keefe rushed to her side and pulled back her hair as she retched again. And again. He rubbed her back until her stomach had stopped shoving itself out of her throat.

"Hey, it's okay. It was just a nightmare," he comforted as she slumped back into his arms.

"I'm sorry you had to see this," she whispered.

"I don't care if you vomit on me. Are you okay?"

She nodded, swallowing.

"How often does this happen?"

She just grunted.

"That's not an answer."

She bit her lip. "Usually every night or every other night."

Keefe's soft blue eyes grew sad. "Oh, Foster."

After she had stopped shaking, he picked her up and brought her back to bed.

"I... I have to change," Sophie said.

Keefe looked down at her. Her shirt needed to be washed, as did her shorts. She started to take a step back towards the bathroom, but her wobbly knees wouldn't hold her weight. He didn't let himself think about what he was doing as Keefe did what was probably the most stupid thing he had ever done in his entire life. He gently picked her back up, set her on the bed, and helped her peel the sweaty fabric from herself. Both of their faces were undoubtably red, but he just helped her remove the sticky layers. Once she was in only her undergarments, he realized that those, too, were probably ruined. But he didn't want to push it.

"Do you want me to help you with..." he started softly.

She gave a defeated sigh and nodded, her cheeks flaming in the darkness. So he helped her ease out of the uncomfortable clothing yet again and tried his best to not think about any of what he was doing. He helped her to shaky feet and led her to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower for her.

"Do you think you can stand on your own?" He asked gently.

"I... don't know. Usually I fall asleep by the toilet and take a shower in the morning," she replied, looking anywhere but him.

She tried letting go of the counter, but would have fallen had Keefe and his fast reflexes not caught her.

"Looks like a no, then." He took his shirt an pants off, leaving him in only his undershorts. It was her turn to try not to think about any of what was happening as he led her into the shower.

The water was pleasantly cool as they stepped into it.

"Did you... bring a change of clothes?" She asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that she was, in fact, naked. In front of Keefe.

"Oh, shit." He realized, glancing at his undershorts.

She froze, gripping the side of the shower as she heard him take them off and throw them over the shower door.

"Relax, Foster. It's okay. Just give yourself a few minutes and you'll be back to good old, normal Sophie."

She was too afraid to turn around, afraid of the heat that had started churning in her core, and afraid of the images that filled her head as she tried her very hardest —but failed miserably— to not imagine what was behind her.

"Shit, Foster, those are some of the most mixed emotions I've ever felt," the boy that she was trying _so hard_ not to think about said.

She laughed humorlessly, a high pitched sound that was more nervous than anything.

"What are you scared of?" He braced a hand on her bare back. "Your nightmare is over."

And finally, she whispered the words of what she was so desperately trying not to think about. "I'm scared about wanting you."

"What?" Came the response.

"I'm scared," Sophie whispered, "that if I see you like this, that I'll want you. And then, after that, I won't ever want to be without you. And then when you leave, I'm afraid that my heart will break into too many pieces to fix." She was in tears now, the salt mixing in with the colored streams of water.

"I will never leave you," he said, his voice cracking. "Ever. Because I love you, Sophie. And I will love you for forever and always and I will never stop loving you until the day I die."

"And what if you die before me?"

"Then I'll love you even after that."

She finally turned around silently, the only sound being the water hitting the shower floor.

"I was right," she whispered, raking her gaze down his entire body.

"About what?" He asked, finally daring to look down from her eyes as well.

"That I want you." It was barely audible, and so stunning that Keefe had to think twice about it.

"In what way?" He dared a step closer.

She held out a hand and grabbed his gently. "This way."

And as her feelings surged through him, Keefe realized that he felt the same way.

So he kissed her. Not a kiss of pure lust or desire. No, it was absolute trust that made up that kiss. Sure, there was some desire thrown in there, but it was mostly trust. She knew what she was going to do, and she trusted him enough to let him love her in that way. She trusted him enough to let him touch her in the way that he did, with a soft grace that left burning fire in its wake.

"If we do this here," he whispered in her ear, "you might slip."

"So we'll not do this here," she whispered back, reaching back blindly and shutting off the water. She wrung her hair out and stepped shakily back into the bathroom. She sighed when Keefe chuckled. "I look like Bambi, don't I?"

"What's a bam bee?"

"Never mind. Just help me get over there," she snapped.

"Sassy, sassy."

She rolled her eyes, but her breath caught as he swept her off the ground and into his arms.

He set her down on the bed and his eyes suddenly flashed with worry. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded. "I've never trusted someone like this. Not even Fitz."

"Can we not talk about other males while we're doing this?" He whined.

"Of course, Keefe darling," she replied. She stroked a finger over the length of him, reveling at the baby-smooth softness. He was left breathless, trying not to groan as she ran another finger over him.

He grabbed her wrist and gently pushed it away. He pulled her closer and kissed her with the passion of a million stars. He let his hands roam freely, exploring every inch of her body, from her petite breasts to her gently curving waist. He ran a hand through the coarse blonde curls between her legs and let a finger rub a bit lower. Sophie's breath caught in her throat and she moaned quietly. Keefe's mouth quirked upward at the sound.

He slipped a finger inside her drenched folds and watched as she bit her lip. He slid another finger in and massaged the pearl right above with his thumb. She made a small whimper, as if begging him for more. He looked into those beautiful fawn eyes that met his ice blue ones before slowly spreading her legs further and bringing his head down between them. He flicked his tongue onto that pearl, eliciting a stifled moan. He finally started moving those fingers back and forth, and after a few more ragged breaths, Sophie arched her back and fisted the sheets. She moaned so loudly that surely Edaline and Grady heard it from downstairs, but they didn't care.

Keefe looked up at Sophie, her eyes sparking with that excited happiness again. "You're sure?" He asked one final time.

She nodded, and he slowly sheathed himself inside of her.

—

Sophie felt herself split, and winced. Keefe stopped abruptly. "Fuck. Uh, keep— keep going," she managed to get out over the dulling pain and burning fire that had returned to her core. So he did. And not until his entire length was buried in her, and she had gotten used to it, did he start moving in and out, creating a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Soon, release barreled through them, leaving them breathless and gasping like fish out of water, lying on the bed next to each other.

"I love you," Keefe repeated.

"I love you too," Sophie said sleepily. She yawned. "I'm tired."

"Me too." So they wrapped their arms around each other and fell into a dreamless sleep, where the Neverseen were nothing, and the dangers of the world were nothing, and the only thing that existed was them, and their love.


End file.
